


Rules for Gift-Giving

by pensversusswords



Series: Subbyforov Nut Zone Valentines Day Extravaganza [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM dynamics, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Established Relationship, Foot Fetish, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Stiletto Heels, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 17:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13686828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensversusswords/pseuds/pensversusswords
Summary: “Well,” Yuuri says, keeping his voice level and sure, “you know the rules, Vitya. Beg.”





	Rules for Gift-Giving

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a telephone game played with several friends! This TECHNICALLY can be read alone, but it's much more fun if you read the series in order. It's a mess. But a delightful mess!
> 
> I'm # 2/6 writers in the game.

_Prompt from the previous chapter by @hernerdiness:_

> _ God, Victor was a delectable sight, better than any Valentine’s gift he possibly could have dreamed up: dressed in a sheer red slip, a lacy red thong, and red stockings that covered his legs up to mid-thigh. “Thank you for these gorgeous gold heels, Vitya. Now get on your knees and kiss gold for me.” _

Viktor feels Yuuri’s eyes on him as he obeys him instantly, falling to his knees with a soft thud, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he stares up at Yuuri. He loves the way the slip flutters around him and kisses his skin every time he moves. It reminds him of how pretty he made himself to please Yuuri.

Ever the obedient soul, he leans forward, bending at the waist as he places one hand on Yuuri’s ankle, curling his fingers around the back to keep it steady as he leans the rest of the way down to press a tiny kiss to the top of Yuuri’s shoe. He lets his lips linger there for a moment, relishing the thrilling sensation of kissing Yuuri’s feet for as long as he can.

“Good boy,” Yuuri murmurs. Viktor shivers.

“Thank you, sir,” Viktor chokes out. Yuuri hasn’t told him to sit up again, nor has he told Viktor to kiss his foot again, so he stays bent forward like that, keeping his body as still as he can manage.

“So polite,” Yuuri says, and Viktor preens internally at the unmistakable pleased tone to his voice. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you Vitya?”

“Yes, sir.” There’s not an ounce of hesitation in Viktor’s voice. There’s absolutely nothing he’d love more.

“Good. Look at me _, solnyshko_ ,” Yuuri says with a steady calmness in his voice. How he manages to make his voice so soft and so commanding all at the same time will never cease to amaze Viktor.

Of course, he does as Yuuri bids immediately, looking up from the shiny gold heels and up to his face, knowing that he has desperation written all over his features. He doesn’t try to mask it. Let Yuuri see how much he needs him.

“These were really a gift to yourself, weren’t they, darling?” Yuuri’s mouth curls into a smirk. Viktor’s breath catches in his throat.

“They’re for you,” Viktor says, his voice ragged.

Yuuri lifts his foot and tips it up so that it nudges under Viktor’s chin, making him tilt his face up to look at Yuuri. Viktor allows this to happen willingly, his breath leaving his lips in sharp bursts of air.

“Vitya, you know the rules. You have to tell me the truth to get what you want, darling,” Yuuri says softly. How he manages to imbue that much control in such a soft voice will always astound Viktor. He doesn’t raise his voice even the slightest bit, yet Viktor hears the command weighing heavily in every word. “Who were the shoes for?”

Viktor draws in a long, shuddering breath. “Me,” he rasps. “They were for me, Yuuri.”

“And why did you want them, Vitya?”

“I…” Viktor pauses to swallow. His throat is _so dry._ “I wanted to kiss your feet while you were wearing them.”

Yuuri’s smirk sends a shudder down Viktor’s spine. “Good boy,” Yuuri says, and Viktor feels the words in his bones. He has to stop a small whimper from escaping his mouth. “What else?”  

He inhales softly. “I wanted you to…” He pauses and takes another breath, fortifying himself. “I wanted you to step on me.”

Viktor doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath that Yuuri makes at those words.

“Of course you did,” Yuuri says, his voice a touch breathless. Viktor loves the way Yuuri is looking down at him; his eyes widening slightly at Viktor’s request, his face momentarily slipping into the softness that Viktor knows and loves. “But Viktor,” Yuuri says, a pensive expression passing over his face. “If the shoes are really for you, then what’s my gift?”

“Me,” Viktor says, the word coming out of his mouth on a gasp, without even a moment of hesitation. “Me, sir, I’m all yours.”

For a fleeting moment, Yuuri’s eyes go soft and his mouth twitches into a small smile. “Vitya…” he says, his voice quiet and unmistakably tender.

Given their positions, it should probably seem out of place, but with Yuuri, it never is. Whenever they’re like this together, Yuuri slides into his soft everyday self so easily that Viktor hardly notices it happening. Viktor loves him both ways. Yuuri’s determined, devastating face and his firm voice sends sparks like white hot light through his veins, making him tremble, while that soft smile, that familiar flush on his cheeks curls a gentle hand around his heart, wraps him in the safety of Yuuri’s love, tempers the flames just enough so that Yuuri can go back to destroying him with his words and hands.

He likes it when the Yuuri he spends every day with peeks out from beneath the curtain of raw sexuality. It anchors him to the scene, makes him feel safe.

“You’re the best present anyone has ever given me,” Yuuri murmurs, his voice quiet and reverent.

“Thank you,” Viktor breathes, his voice trembling just slightly. He preens inwardly. Yuuri wants him. Yuuri _wants him._

A tiny crease forms between Yuuri’s brows. “Thank you what, Vitya?” The softness is replaced once again with sternness, his expression expectant. 

Viktor hears the reprimand naked in Yuuri’s voice. “Thank you, sir,” he corrects quickly. “Sorry, sir.”

Thankfully seeming pleased with Viktor’s hasty correction, Yuuri drops his foot to the floor and leans down with a thoughtful expression on his face. Viktor’s breath catches in his throat.

Yuuri reaches out and cups one hand under Viktor's chin, tilts his face up so Viktor has no choice but to meet his eyes. Viktor looks up at him with wide, watery eyes, cheeks hot with what he assumes is a rather prominent blush.

“Good boy.”

The praise from Yuuri makes warmth bloom in Viktor’s chest. He smiles up at Yuuri gratefully.

Yuuri keeps his hand curled under Viktor’s chin, holding him steady and making him meet Yuuri’s eyes. As if he’d be able to look away anyways.

“Well,” Yuuri says, keeping his voice level and sure, “you know the rules, Vitya. Beg.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [my tumblr](http://pensversusswords.tumblr.com/) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/pensvsswords)!


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